The Runaways
by SerenitySings
Summary: "W-what would happen if we ran away?" / Life should be worse enough when Austin Moon's father is a foster father. And HATES children. His father abuses him and the nine-year-old Ally Dawson. Both young, both scared, both unpredictable, there's only one thing for them to do. Run. Known to be outlaws of the city for robbing to survive, everyone knows what to call them. The Runaways.


**Kicking off with my first fanfiction! "The Runaways" was inspired to me by multiple books and TV shows, which blossomed this. {Note: This fic is Rated T for a reason!}**

**Anywhale, I hope you guys enjoy! R&R! {Quite a lot of OOC}**

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_3 years ago_

"Get out of here!" my foster father roared. Alarmed and afraid, I quickly spun around, tripping over the untied shoelace of my small, worn converse.

"You _fucking _pest! Why can't you just stay in your room?!" he slammed his bedroom door shut, snatching the light of his desk lamp away, making the hallway engulf itself in darkness. Letting a hot tear escape from my swollen eye, I struggled with myself to get back up to my feet.

"A-austin?" I heard Ally whimper from behind me, holding a stuffed bear close to her chest. I quickly wiped the tear away from my eye, which stung. I winced at the pain. "Yeah?" I questioned, shuffling over to her. She still remained halfway behind her bedroom door. I quietly motioned for her to come out, and she scuffled out to me.

"I heard him yelling.. what did you do?" Even in the darkness, I could see her eyes, searching to meet mine. I knelt down to her tiny, frail body. "He's being a jerk again," I explained, trying not to let a curse word escape from my 11-year-old lips. Ally was only nine, she shouldn't have even known those words.

But she did. All her life, even before she was forced into the orphanage, her father hated her. She'd told me about how he would slap her if she tried to speak to him while he was on the phone. How he'd shout disgusting insults to her face, making her feel worthless.

She was a really strong kid. I'd never seen her cry about anything. She would always worriedly ask what I did or if I was okay after that asshole screamed at me, but she never wept after he yelled at her. She seemed much more superior, considering I cried more than what was needed. But we'd comfort each other. We were.. better together.

"Oh.." Ally replied. She lifted her frail hand and put it in mine, still clutching her bear with her other arm. "Are you gonna be okay, Austy?" I raised a corner of my mouth in a smile.

"Yeah, Alls. I'm gonna be fine." I squeezed her hand reassuringly. Hearing noises, she peered up at our foster father's door. "You didn't get it, didn't you?" she mumbled. The only reason why I was sneaking around in his bedroom was to find Ally's hair bow, which he ripped from her hair when he was yelling at her, a few hours before.

I shone a close-lipped smile. Raising the bright red bow, her favorite color, to her eye-level, I stared at the bright-eyed look she gave. "Yay!" she squealed. I nervously jerked my head behind me again, at our father's door. "Shh," I commanded, putting my index finger to my lips. She mimicked the gesture, knowing to be quiet.

"You gotta go back to bed, Alls." I whispered, knowing she would want to stay up. Pouting, she casually wrapped the red hair bow around her stuffed bear's neck, cuddling up to it. "Why can't I stay up with you?" She asked me, a sad tone setting in her voice.

I nodded to her, considering it. "Sure we can," I told her, still whispering. "But we gotta be quiet, alright?" She nodded hastily, once again grabbing my hand. Smiling, I stood up straight and walked with her to my room, letting her walk in first.

My foster brother, Dez, snored on the top bunk. He rolled over, knocking one of his stuffed animals to the carpeted floor. Which was ridiculous, considering he was thirteen.

I walked over, then I threw up the animal to Dez, who had a mini spaz-attack when it hit on the metal bar of the bed frame next to him.

Ally giggled from the corner of the room, sinking down into a mass of pillows and blankets. I turned my head to her, eying her closely. She might've sat on one of Dez's annoying toys..

Nope, nothing. Letting out a tiny sigh of relief, I walked away from Dez to Ally, turning my back to her and hurling myself down on the mass of blankets, making her jump an inch into the air.

She yelped slightly, which made me chuckle. Of course she was airborne for a bit. She was so skinny, even for a third grader. I could even see the bones of her ribs, slightly, through her white nightshirt. I frowned, turning my head.

Ally glanced up at me, her eyes boring at my black eye. Without any hesitation, she raised her tiny hand up and smoothed her fingers over the mark. I flinched away from her feathery-soft touch, still feeling a scarce pain.

Feeling another hot tear escape from my eye, Ally shut my eyelid, releasing the strain. She brushed her thumb over my cheek, wiping the single tear away. "Did Mike do that to you?" she asked me, her voice rich with innocence.

"Mike" was our foster father. Our idiotic, cold-hearted, bastard of a foster father. I didn't choose to respond, even with a nod. She probably, being the sharp kid that she was, knew why. Ally knew that Mike had socked me in the eye two days before. Nobody treated it. All I had was Ally's hand, stroking over my eye.

Ally's head found the crook of my shoulder, nestling in. Out of instinct, I rested my cheek onto the top of her head. Both of us were tired, restless, and afraid. We each cowered in fear to our foster father. The whole orphanage was scared to death. Our foster mother was away on business. Something about a mattress store.

We all missed her. Even if she was a bit hot-headed, she still made sure we were all fed. Cared for. Safe. Only she could truly love us. Our pathetic 'foster father' didn't even know how to talk to a kid. Couldn't communicate with one without hurting them physically or emotionally.

The worst part.. he targets Ally and I with his anger the most.

Neither of us knew what we did wrong. Did we say something? Did we remind him of some people he disliked? Ally shifted her weight, snuggling up her dainty body to mine. I protectively wrapped my arm around her shoulders, cupping my hand on her shoulder. She seemed to be falling asleep..

"Austin?" Ally spoke up, distracting me from my thoughts. "Mhm?" I muttered, absentmindedly twirling one of her straightened locks of hair. "W-what would happen if we ran away?" she questioned, not moving from where she relaxed. I could imagine her bright eyes wandering the room, awaiting an answer from me.

"If we ran away.. we'd be happier," I began. "Maybe we could grow up together; I could be a rock star and you can be my back-up dancer," I ambitioned aloud, making her giggle. "We would be filthy rich, not caring about Mike or anybody else. I could buy you all the pickles you wanted, and we'd still have enough to buy a thousand candy bars." Ally perked up at the sound of pickles, since they were her most favorite food on the planet.

"A-and I could buy you a pancake house." she added, much to my pleasure. "Oooh, yeah. With unlimited toppings." I marveled, making her body quake against mine from her laughter. We each went silent for a moment, thinking it out.

"Should we run away?" Ally whispered, popping me out of my fantasy. I blinked multiple times. If we ran away, we truly could get away from Mike. We'd be together. Like we wanted.

But if Mike found us, we'd be taken back. Even if Mike did want us dead, he would take us back just for our foster mother's sake. Wanted her to be happy. He didn't care what we wanted. What he _wanted _was for us to be dead.

I was taken aback. Being so young, I didn't want to believe in reality. What happened in the movies, books, other people's lives.. it sounded so much better.

Ally and I could live that life. Together. With no worries of being beaten or hated.

We could be loved.

Ally and I agreed to run away the next day. Leaving almost everything behind besides two bags filled with clothes, snacks, and a leather book of Ally's that she never wrote in. She'd convinced me she had a use for it. Otherwise, she had her stuffed bear and red hair bow. We were each dressed completely, at 7AM. Just as the sun was about to rise.

Ally in her bright yellow sundress, me with my black leather jacket over a bright red shirt, jeans, and as usual, we both had converse. We were each prepared to go. Leave a place filled with despair and regret.

Waving a last goodbye to the sleeping Dez, I walked out right after Ally, both of us stopping at the front door. _"Where the hell are you two going!?" _A voice boomed from the kitchen, foot stomps following after.

"Go," I demanded to Ally. She didn't have to be told twice. She ran as fast as she could out the door, not waiting for me. Giving one snide glance to the bellowing and awful man, I slid out the door, slamming it in his face. Swiftly locking it after me, I ran down the steps. I could easily hear the echos of his screaming through the door as I glided away, my feet pounding the concrete sidewalk as fast as they could go.

I wasn't aware of where Ally ran off to. She might've gone in the other direction.

"Ally!" I screamed, looking around frantically. I continued to run, heading to downtown Miami. Pausing for a breath in the middle of a random ally, I peered around. Ally was nowhere in sight. Panting, panicked, I slid down the brick wall. I tried to inhale, but choked on the scent. A dumpster set off the right of me, cloaking any sign of freshness.

I tangled my hands in my hair, shoving my head into my knees, screaming in frustration.

**I lost Ally.**

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**If this chapter was short at all, no worries. It's just the prologue. c; This is just the beginning. Thanks so much! When I hit 10 reviews, I won't hesitate to update!**

—**ѕєяєи****ι****ту**


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